Lord Brown of Eaton-under-Heywood: My Lords, as a Jew, albeit a non-believer, I am not insensible to the sensitivities of mankind, by which I mean humankind. At school in the early 1950s, it would have been surprising, as a Jewish boy, never to have  been referred to as a “Yid”. Occasionally—rarely—one was but, generally, such a term was used entirely carelessly, not with any malice or hostility, and one was inclined to ignore it rather than allow it to interfere with established relationships and friendships.
Later in life, it became impossible simply to ignore an anti-Semitic remark, however obviously unmalicious. Because I do not look obviously Jewish, apparently, when recognising that a particular conversation might be heading in that direction, my habit has been to pre-empt such a remark by at once pointing out that I am Jewish and the speaker therefore better be careful about what he is going to say. I do this to save him the embarrassment of having to apologise and explain rather than to save myself from unintended offence. The plain fact is that most such ostensibly prejudiced remarks are not offensively intended but are the result of thoughtless, careless habit.
Of course, we should all strive to correct our ways, but some—the stupider and, let us face it, often the more elderly—are less corrigible than others. There seems today to be a growing tension, often apparently intergenerational, between those ever ready to identify themselves or others as victims and those who insist, no doubt carelessly, on invoking their general right to freedom of speech and expression. Most of my generation is deeply distrustful of wokeness. However, as was tellingly pointed out in a recent letter to the Times from the headmistress of Benenden, woke is merely a shorthand to describe those who are awake to the principles of social justice. Which of us would not wish to be woke in that sense? If you broaden out the debate to include, for example, such sensitive and challenging issues as the tension between trans rights and feminist rights, discussed already this morning, and, more fundamentally, the tension between freedom of expression and freedom from the expression of discomforting views, the way ahead sometimes becomes less clear.
In the context of free speech, we all know—and I need not repeat—Voltaire’s celebrated aphorism. However, today, there appear to be those among us who would invert it. Their attitude is this: “I agree entirely with all that you say, but I will fight to the death to prevent your saying it”.
My essential point is this: let us try to take thoughtless unintended sensitivity in our stride. Those inclined to take offence should be more resilient and refrain from demonising those whom, we feel, could and should be more sensitive to the sensibilities of others. Where possible, save them embarrassment. Eschew, rather than assert, victim status. Try to pre-empt rather than await unintended insult. Whenever a clash is threatened between freedom of speech and freedom from possibly hurtful speech, start with at least a partial affection for freedom of speech.
In the context of the PCSC Bill now before the House on Report, do not to enlarge the scope of hate crime to include misogyny. Obviously that is a very different kettle of fish from encouraging violence by insults but, generally, do not go out of one’s way to emphasise hate speech. Another part of the Bill deals with registering it even when it is not in the context  of a crime.
In short, what we need today is more sense and less sensibility. I am sure Jane Austen would agree.